Witness On The Run. Susan CliffЧитать онлайн книгу.
only. She needed warm clothes and winter boots no matter what her future plans were. She couldn’t job-hunt in her old uniform, or his pajamas.
The big-box store was about five miles away. He parked on the outskirts of the lot and accompanied Tala inside. He grabbed a cart, swamped by memories of Jenny. Their Sunday shopping trips. Rainy mornings in Seattle. They’d been good together. They’d been content.
He headed toward the women’s clothing department, where Tala browsed the racks. She selected black leggings and an oversize sweatshirt. When he gestured for her to continue, she added a pair of jeans to the cart. They strolled through another section with packages of socks and underwear. She chose basic white cotton, seeming embarrassed.
“That’s all you want?” he asked.
“You don’t have to buy the whole store.”
“This is Walmart. Everything’s cheap.”
“I’m going to owe you.”
“Consider it a gift.”
“No,” she said, her face solemn. “I’ll pay you back.”
Warmth suffused his chest at her assertion. He admired her pride, even though he cursed her stubbornness. The thought of reuniting with her after he returned from the Dalton appealed to him—and not because he wanted to collect on a debt. He’d like to see her again, despite his wariness toward women, and his general misgivings about the trouble she was in.
“You should let me introduce you to Ann,” he said.
She continued walking alongside him, not answering. It was a good sign, he supposed. She hadn’t refused outright. They found the shoe racks. He left his cart at the end of the aisle and accompanied her on the search for practical footwear.
“You know what you said about moving on?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“I have to do that, too. I have to keep moving.”
“You’re running away from your problems.”
“And you aren’t?”
He didn’t answer. Of course he was. They both were.
“If you stay in the same place, your past catches up with you.” She turned to study the opposite side of the aisle. “When I first came to Alaska, I went from town to town. I hitchhiked here and there. I didn’t feel safe unless I was on the go. It took me almost a month to settle down in Willow.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that she didn’t have to run anymore. He could help her. He used to be a cop. His brother was still a cop. Cam could make some inquiries about her husband. He could probably have the guy arrested, with or without Tala’s cooperation. Cam didn’t extend the offer, because he sensed it wouldn’t go over well. She didn’t trust the police, obviously. She wouldn’t trust him if she knew he’d been a patrol officer.
He also had his own issues with faith and justice. And family, for that matter. Calling his brother would open him up to uncomfortable questions. He’d disconnected from everyone in Washington. He hadn’t spoken to Mason since Thanksgiving.
He massaged the nape of his neck, feeling guilty. It was better to keep his secrets and protect his privacy. Stay distant. Stay numb.
She reached into a large box on a lower shelf and fished out a pair of sturdy black boots. They looked warm and practical, with faux fur trim. She sat down on the floor to try them on. “They fit.”
He grunted his approval. “What else do you need?”
She walked back and forth to test the comfort of the boots. Then she removed them. “This is more than enough, Cam.”
“You don’t have to pay me back.”
“I want to. How long will you be on the Dalton?”
“Three days, maybe.”
“Do you have a cell phone?”
“Of course, but there’s no service. You can leave a message.”
“Give me the number.”
He handed her a business card with his information. She tucked it into the front pocket of his flannel.
“You can go to the cabin anytime. I’ll tell Ann to run a tab.”
She nodded, avoiding his gaze. He didn’t press, because he was afraid to scare her off. Maybe she’d call him in a few days. Maybe she’d rethink his offer to stay at the cabins. She had nowhere else to go, after all.
They headed toward the front of the store together. She added a couple of travel-size toiletries to the cart, along with a simple canvas backpack. He didn’t really need any supplies, but he grabbed a few boxes of snacks. The store was busier now, at the start of the morning rush. He paid for the items in cash.
“I’ll change here,” she said, gesturing to the restrooms.
He went to wait for her near the entrance. There was an in-store restaurant with a café. He sat down at an empty booth. A mounted TV in the upper corner displayed local news. He listened to the weather report with interest. There was snow in the forecast, as usual. Then a photograph of Tala flashed across the screen.
Cam’s blood froze at the sight. Newscasters launched into a story of a missing waitress from Walt’s in Willow. The photo of Tala appeared again. It had been taken at the diner, probably by a patron. Tala was standing at the counter next to Walt.
The caption under her face read “Abigail Burgess.”
Viewers were asked to call a number for the Willow Police Department if they had any information. The segment lasted sixty seconds at the most. He blinked and it was gone, like a figment of his imagination.
Abigail. Abigail?
He tried to remember hearing her name in the diner, or over the radio. The other truckers used terms like “honey” or “cutie” for an attractive waitress. Tala was a distinctive name, and he wouldn’t have forgotten it. She must have lied to him. He was disappointed, but not particularly surprised, by the realization.
Cam pondered this latest development. There was no mention of a crime committed, by her or anyone else. She didn’t have any family in the area to report her disappearance, and she’d only been gone twenty-four hours.
And yet, her story had made the morning news.
What the hell had happened at Walt’s? He got the feeling it was something more serious than a brief sighting of her ex. She’d woken up screaming last night. She’d mentioned a dream about Walt in the dumpster. Dead.
He glanced toward the restrooms, uneasy. She was taking too long to change clothes. Either she’d ditched him to avoid saying goodbye, or she’d run into some more trouble. The first option was far more likely, and it filled him with dark emotions. He hadn’t been able to say goodbye to Jenny because she’d never woken up. He couldn’t bear to relive the moment his wife had slipped away.
He had issues with saying goodbye. Major issues.
Stomach roiling, he rose to his feet. Women who weren’t Tala breezed in and out of the restrooms. Had she walked by him while his eyes were glued to the television screen? No. She couldn’t have left the store, unless there was another way out. He spotted a garden section in the opposite corner.
Damn it.
Cam strode past the potted plants and fertilizer. Sure enough, there was an alternate exit at this end. He moved forward and shoved through the doors, searching the dark for a wolf-quick girl in a fur-lined parka.
There.
She was in the parking lot—and she wasn’t alone. A man had his hand locked around her upper arm. He appeared to be leading her away by force. She looked over her shoulder at Cam. Their eyes met for a split second. Then the man, who must be her abusive ex, jerked her forward. She